Reality hit me in the face when I found out who’s really behind it all, behind ‘the stalker’. I never in a million years would have expected it to be who it is. And of course they are so low and so obsessed to have even found this blog which isn’t even easy for ME to find. Let me catch you up to date. For about 3 and a half years I have had a stalker online. It started on rec.music.phish where I was a well known poster and then followed me no matter where I went on the internet. Every new name that I was use, they would find out. I used to think it was one person, found out a few of the people it was, but now, it’s different. One person is doing it and we have been able to use ISP’s to find out who it really is behind the whole thing. This person was someone that I trusted and know well from Phish tour. In fact Ive spent hours with this person and it’s amazing to me what double sides people have. My good ole husband was WAY ahead of me and had it figured out before the IP addresses proved who it REALLY was. The great part about all of this is I just dare them to try and find me again and try and post horrible things again. They will, I have no doubt. The great part that I was just talking about, I finally figured out that it’s funny to make fun of people with diseases on the inside and it’s even funnier to make fun of fat people. Not, but that’s what they were doing to me. I mean don’t get me wrong. To these people, being fat and having a diseas that has no physical symptoms besides weight gain makes me a target about as funny as John Stewart on a good day. I don’t care anymore and this shall be the last time ‘the stalker’ is ever spoken about and hopefully the last time it’ll be in my brain. I’m puttin’ it in a folder and into the locked file cabinet of my brain of things int he past. It’s time to move on for all of us. I know you are reading this stalker. Just stop it. You will have so much more time for yourself. And it ain’t workin’ on me anymore so either quit, or find a new victim. Hopefully one that catches you before the end and can prove what a complete and vile asswipe you are. You have done nothing but heap lots of bad karma upon yourself and it sounds like it’s starting to kick in. Have a fun ride on the way back down.
The musics playin, the birds are chirpin, the clematis is blooming and spring has arrived to our corner of the world. The shorts are on and The New Mastersounds are givin it UP!. They are the new soundtrack to our house. I can’t wait to give them a full listen tomorrow when I have relaxation day. I can’t wait to relax. I’ve been back to the grind for almost a month now. Saw another doctor today. Told me that my medication has been the reason for all of my ill health the past few months. It’s nice to have somewhat of an answer and someone powerful on my side. The parental is also relieved. I think she was just as scared as me and the hubby when this all happened except for the fact that she is 3000 miles away and couldn’t be here. I talked to her today, and she said she almost came out. Even though I had heard that from the hubby already. It really made me feel good to hear it on this day again and from her. It’s taken years of hard work but we really have a great relationship and I’m thankful that we are as close as we are.
Spring is my most favorite season. Even with the rain. I am hoping that the warm rains will start to come so I can start hanging outside. I miss just sittin on the porch, swinging, and reading on the weekends, sun shining. That’s how it was today but I didn’t get enough of the day to enjoy because of the doctor appointments. The physical therepy is enjoyable enough. I get pain relief there and they have big ceiling to floor windows and I can look outside at the leaves waving in the wind.
Instrumental music, especially good instrumental music can really inspire, but it has to be the right time, and the right time is not now. I’m wrappin this up short style because I want to go be with the hubby. Its important to me.
I really wish that the holes in my memory would start giving it up. While talking to the hubby yesterday I wanted so badly to tell him a story that involved me and someone else and something that happened years ago but I could only remember an outline of the stuff and I told it as best I could. Didn’t sound as great as I had hoped and I wish there was some sort of pill to take to help you get your memory back.
A religious ambassador. I don’t know why we don’t have them. I mean what a grand way to help ease the wars in the world right now. Every religion would have someone that speaks for them, and perhaps we could acheive peace in this world but at the same time, I don’t even know if that’s possible.
I’m at work right now, passing time while the boss is on a (ring) conference call. Sometimes I wonder if the redhead thinks about the fans as much as a lot of us think of him. I know my husband and I have both had dreams with him in them, and it makes me wonder, on those same nights, is the redhead having dreams about his fans? Now I’m not saying he’s necessarily in our dreams but I wonder if he himself dreams about being onstage. The story he told, bout the dream that he had involving the apple and the one tooth never really struck me as a real dream, but if it was, man he has fucked up dreams.
One lasting thing from my ‘episode’ of the month of Feb, is the high beams thing. I still to this day am wondering why ‘it’ told me to keep my high beams on. I still want to know who ‘it’ was, and why I knew where to go and what was guiding me. I was never scared and I hated it that I scared the hubby. I wish he could have felt what was in my heart that night. I felt elated. I felt light as a feather. I felt like I could do anything, save someone’s life, something really dramatic. I felt that I could save the world that night if I needed too. Sometimes I wonder if all I really want is to just be loved for the rest of my life and if that’s the case then I’m all set. The hubby is the one, there has never been any doubt, and he loves me perfectly. I have no complaints (except maybe how he never wipes up his crumbs while making toast) but those aren’t real complaints. The best part about my life right now is that I’m ‘livin large’ as me and the hubby have been saying and even though we are still living somewhat check to check, we do not lack anything including love and that makes us lucky in today’s world. I am thankful Lord for all that you have done to give me and help me have such a wonderful life. I am thankful to you redhead for the music that you gave to us. It also helped to shape our relationship, and I am thankful most of all to you hubby, even though you aren’t going to read this, I am very thankful that you fell in love with me as hard as I fell in love with you. I will love you forever. Promise Promise.
I thought maybe moving to Brattleboro, Vermont was the answer to ease the pain of losing my father. I had the insurance money and I could go and do anything I wanted to anytime I wanted to. I didn’t owe anything to anyone. I figured that I might as well start checking out the rest of the country. I had never thought to having a future in the city I grew up in and so I figured this was my time to start taking my money and traveling with it. I’m not quite sure how Vermont came into the picture but it did .I met Heath in the Grateful Dead chatroom. The internet was still pretty new to the average person like me at this point. I had just gotten a computer in August and found a whole cyber world of people who liked the same bands that I liked. At this point in my life, I was a hard core Deadhead. Lucky for us, after Jerry dying, there was a need for all of us to be together as much as we could be. There were festivals in just about any state during the first three months of a Jerry-less world. Thankfully for us newer deadheads, The Grateful Dead had their own forum on America Online. This was the early days of AOL. YOu didn’t pay by the year, you paid by the hour. I can’t even count on two hands the amount of fake screennames my friends and I would use in order to not pay AOL because paying by the hour, when you are a mourning deadhead in a chatroom of deadheads is not one of your top priorities. I remember people having hundreds of dollars of bills every month. Needless to say, the Aol dead forum was where I lived those first three months after Jerry died and that is where I met Heath. He was a hippie kid, like me, who lived in New Hampshire, just outside of Vermont. We decided to hang out in real life and possibly get an apartment together in Brattleboro. I packed up my backpack and hopped the greyhound bus to meet with Heath and spend a couple weeks looking for an apartment. If everything worked out ok then he would come back with me, help me pack up my shit and then help me drive the UHaul back to Brattleboro.
The greyhound bus motored up through the mountains and I gazed at the beautiful fall leaves of western New york. I ended up in New Hampshire where Hearth was waiting to pick me up. The bus pulled up at night time to this small building with 2 plate glass windows and a plate glass door that opened up as the bus pulled up. It was this tall skinny guy wearing a knit hat with a ball at the end the swung as he walked towards me. He was also wearing dark brown cords and a very thick sweater in dull colors based mainly in the maroon color wheel. I came down the steps of the bus and Hearth was nice enough to give me a hug. We weren’t there as a couple and in fact this was the first time we were meeting in person. In 1995, meeting people off the internet was not a common thing. I usually had to lie to mom when I would tell her where I was going and who I was going wtih.
Heath’s parents were kind enough to host me for the 2 weeks we were taking to find the right apartment. Heath and I spent days searching the apartment ads in Brattleboro and scouted out the grocery stores, music stores and other various small shops that generated most of the business in the economy of brattleboro. There were plenty of kids like us. We had no problem finding people who had things in common. After seeing a picture of Phish playing in Brattleboro around the same time I almost moved there I to this day still wonder what would have happened if I had gotten into phish in 1995 because I had moved to brattleboro.
Coincidently phish just released a new livephish download from december of 1995. I am listening to that while I write this story.
Back to the Vermont story:
We spent quite a few hours in the music shop and I ended up buying an accoustic guitar. I really wanted to learn how to play it and figured that at 21, I was still young enough to pick it up. Eventually we found the apartment that we felt most comfortable in and placed a downpayment on it. It was the second floor of this cool house. It had a very windy short stairwell (which would mean lots and lots of fun carrying up our belongings). I knew that we were going to have the times of our lives living in this place. There were so many nooks and crannies and the place was definitely big enough for the two of us to have our own separate lives as there was never a love interest between the two of us. After finding the place, we headed back to his parents house, packed up my stuff and I returned to Michigan with Heath in tow. It was impossible for me to move an entire apartment without help and I just couldn’t find anyone who was willing to help me move, including my future roommate. All i needed was help moving boxes and here i was seeing what my roommate was made of and it seemed like he wasn’t made of much. I decided this was a trait in a person that I was not willing to look past. I really wanted to move to Vermont. I wanted to start my life there. But when I saw what kind of person Heath was I sent him home about 3 days before the RV rental was to be picked up.I returned all the money he was owed, and I decided to stay in Michigan.
for the second time, in the past two weeks, im home sick as a dog. I hate this kind of sick too. I can barely enjoy doing anything because the stomach is so upset. I’m sorry for the non posts but I’ll be back up and running sooner then later and I’ll post more…till then, watch this:
So there is a medicine out there, that for 10 years, have stopped the symptoms and permanent bone damage of people who have rheumatoid arthritis from suffering from their symptoms. Their hands stop becoming gnarled, they are able to go back to living a normal life without 15 pills a day. This same exact medicine has been approved by the FDA for my disease; Ankylosing Spondylitis. For the past 5 years. People with A.S. have been taking Enbrel and its been able to stop their symptoms as well. The bones aren’t calcifying. The joints aren’t falling apart (like my kneecap just did) and the 24/7 pain in the spine and the sacro-illiac joints are either already calcified so they don’t hurt, but this medicine can stop that calcification from happening. To be honest, I’m not all that eduacated on exactly what the Enbrel does for the A.S. but I can fix that in about an hour. All I know is that the medical studies that I have spent hours reading, say that ENbrel is one of the top medications to help stop the progression of my disease and help cut pain levels. The same things that my meds are supposed to do, well, my meds now don’t stop the progression of the disease, they only take care of the symptoms.
That’s why Trey’s Sand hits so close to home.
It’s hard not to get bitter and angry when Enbrel calls my home asking how my treatment is going. For some reason unknown to me, they think that I am taking the medicine. They don’t know that I can’t afford the 800 a month co pay. And since I have insurance, I dont qualify for any of the other prescription help programs that there are out there. Even Montel’s doesn’t do me any good. It’s hard to live with the knowledge that there is a medicine out there, that has an 80% chance, of putting me into remission, stopping the progression of my disease, and it would also give me back my health. My life before my flares started.
Tell me how you’d feel if you knew the medicine existed, have spent 4 years trying to get it, and the company still calls to ask how the treatment is going because they are so big they don’t realize that they ‘arent’ helping everyone get the medicine like their big huge advertisements on tv say. They don’t help everyone. I’ve literally slipped through the cracks and thanks to PHC I work 32 hours a week, when I am healthy enough, and they don’t fire me when I’m sick and need to stay home.
It’s hard not to be bitter, but of course check out what was in my email today:
The nature of bitterness is rooted in the fact that the pain we feel provides us with a rationale. We may feel that we deserve to embrace our bitterness to its full extent. And to be bitter is, in essence, to cut ourselves off from all that is positive, hardening our hearts and vowing never to let go of our hurt. But just as bitter feelings can be self-defeating, so too can the release of bitterness be life-affirming in a way that few other emotional experiences are. When we decide that we no longer want to be bitter, we are reborn into a world filled with delight and fulfillment unlike any we knew while in the clutches of bitterness. The veil it cast over our lives is lifted, letting light and warmth touch our souls.
I’m gonna be a little bitter today..but later on today..im gonna feel a whole heck of a lot better..
and if you know anyone who can get me help with a copay for the medicine Enbrel, give me an email or a message through here…it would change my life forever..
So even though I had to have some ‘counseling’ at work. Today is a great day. Even though Tron kept arguing with me, today is a great day. Even though I had physical therapy today, today is a great day.
Things are different at work, with Paul being there now. Less stress on me, and less for me to do.
Today is a great day.
Did my physical therapy and my knees are feelin sooo strong. I just hope that I can keep this up until July and be ready for that Trey show. I gotta be up front with the devil horns. I have to show him how far I’ve come. I just have to pray that he remembers me as being the one that wrote him the letter in Portland. I have to hope that those minutes he spent with me were as memorable to him as they were to me.
Fast forward to May of 1996.I spent much more time up on haight street then at the apartment and got to know the kids there. One of them being “manny the hippie” who ended up on letterman. We dated for a few weeks, maybe 2 months, he smacked me once, I dumped him, and he dumped me again after we got back together and then he got famous. The show aired on a Monday and he dumped me on a tuesday. It was pretty devestating but that night I went with Joe and his brothers to a Box Set show were I met Liam,who ended up becoming a very good friend and marrying and starting a family with another good friend of mine. karma I suppose . Ii got asked to house sit for a friend of mine in the city. Joe and i lived in menlo park which was 30 miles south of san fran so I took her up on the offer to house sit for a week..and ended up never going back to the apartment until years later. I just couldnt stand the what was going on at our apartment. I couldn’t figure out why Joe was being such a total prick and not paying me back the money he owed and i didnt know what to do. I ended up inviting vinnie and drew whom i had actually met back when i was dating manny, over to the house. It was a very intense night as Drew spent that first 24 hours completely withdrawling from heroin. Everything between puking his guts out, screaming in absolute pain to massive diahrrea happened but he was not strong enough and by the afternoon of the next day he snuck out and got himself a fix. Drew and I had a connection that was strong for many years, but we never started a relationship because he was a 3 needle a day heroin junky. He told me later on that he didnt want to put that habit onto me as well..even though it already was…those 2 guys took care of me.I was a sheltered little girl at that point, homegrown in the tight assed suburbs of detroit. i didnt know what else to do.i was kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place since i really didnt know anyone who could help me because besides them, Joe and this girl whom I barely knew and Liam were the only 3 people I knew in that entire big city.I could have always gone back to michigan with my mother,but who at 21/22 wants to go back home to mom?. Only a strong person willing to admit defeat would do that smart thing which i was not at the time, so the first 2 weeks of june i spent sleeping every night in golden gate park with vinnie, drew and me. A happy little family of three. Every night I would fall asleep to the chirping of the birds, the sounds of small animals in the bushes, brush and trees and of course the star or two that would peak through the bright San Francisco lights. We would park the jeep in the free spots off to one side of Golden Gate Park and then hike back to the tree where we had dropped off our gear and either vinnie or drew. Neither one of them would ever let me be alone. I was safe as long as I was with them because they were ‘known’ I was starting to get ‘known’ simply because I had a car. Most of the kids that were there were either flat out from the suburbs and faking it or a full on runaway, which I guess in a way I was even though I was 22 at this point. We would wake up and roll up our packs and sleeping bags and slowly make our way to the jeep. We would put our stuff away and pull out our toothbrushes and make ourselves somewhat clean. The next stop was the Chevron bathroom which was the only public bathroom in the main part of the haight. There was always a chance of finding a dirty hypo or even a passed out junky in there but I always just needed to go potty. Loading back up in the jeep, heading out towards the higher haight, we would eat our breakfast of pork chow fun. It was usually the only meal of the day, unless vinnie found something that was edible in the trash cans, and we would swing nugs and walk up and down the street. 3 times a day we would go to the mission and score some heroin for drew and every night we would go back to our tree in the park. June 14th came. I remember the date so clearly because the remaining members of the grateful dead played as a group for the first time since jerry had died, andthe city was crawling with all sorts of deadheads. Right before we were going to head up to the show, one of our regular customers came up and said hey kids, the cops have been taking pictures of you for a couple days now. I never actually exchanged money with customers,but would hold the pot for Drew,who would do the exchange. I was still part of it. Not a minute after our buddy walked away, the car full of undercover cops (us kids who didn’t really have a home to go home to knew what the undercovers looked like. in some instances, even knew their names. They came to care about us in a way even though they could never catch us doing anything illegal in front of them. We knew where every camera was, and which fake hippie was in fact john, or joe. We would walk down one of t he streets that had 2 cameras and point directly at them and laugh. The undercovers had been trying for years to catch Drew in the act but he was so good at eluding the cops. While walking out of the local grocery store, they would stop us and ask us how we were doing. Even thought their job was to catch us, they really seemed to have this small bit of a heart and care of us in the same tone. Almost like a father figure type role at these times. The car drove up where we were standing and they gotout of the car and went into the convinence store there. We all turned around and walked off haight street. That was the last time I ever made the forray into illegal activities. My mom must have done something right because it was definitely a path I could’ve ended up going down and thankfully did not.I have been back to Haight Street many times now that almost 10 years have passed. The most recent time, just this past year with my husband. He had never been there and with my background, being there as a tourist, I could show him a lot of things that the average person who lived there might not know. I also decided that it is a lot better then being there as a street kid.
After this close call it was decided that we should probably get out of town and the most appealing thing to all of us was to go on Furthur Tour. There was a large group of musicians, Bruce Horsnby, Mickey Hart, Bobby Wier, that were all invited to play in this day long festival type tour. It was only one day long, but was playing in many cities across the states. Jerry was gone, and phish tour didn’t start till later on in the summer so this Furthur thing was the obvious choice. The guys were doing their thing, but I was making hemp jewelry and using my culinary tour skills to make hot fatty grilled cheese to make money. I had decided since the almost bust to go legal and stay legal when it came to making money. A lot of people I knew on tour supported themselves by selling drugs, but I was not going to loosen my morals and stoop to that level. I was happy with the choice to go on this tour because after all, I am a deadhead always.
“hey..lets go up to portland oregon. I know where to get food and where to sleep and we can make some cash on stark street” Vin said.
“sure” I said.
“sure” said Drew.
So I don’t know if it’s the return to work, the exercise I’m getting through the physical therapy for my knee or the letting go of a lot of hatred and anger but I’m having lower pain levels. The new drugs are helping with the anxiety and scariness that I sometimes feel and I’ve been sleeping like a baby. I have my dreams back too. I know that I am having them, but I’m not remembering them. I’m going to try this weekend to wake up and immediately post what I remember here in the esther blog because this one is pretty incog (well hopefully, but if you know who I am, this is the blog I bitch about my A.S and my health just so you know). I want my dreams back. I don’t even know if I said that to my doctor or just said it in my head. I do know I posted it on the blop.
Goin to hell in a bucket baby, but at least I’m enjoyin the ride.
The blop has been a haven for me. I hope that more people stick around. It seems to be getting busier to me. It seems the perfect size. If you take a few days off it’s slow enough that if you respond to posts from yesterday, the people who wrote them sign on and notice that someone is responding. I think it’s the best size, even though I have this feeling that something’s going to happen and it’s going to get noticed. I hope that snigs is doing well health wise. You are in my prayers snigs!
Can’t think of a place more perfect, or a person as perfect as you.
The hubby is at work today and I get the entire day off to do whatever I want. I’ve decided to take care of the housework first. Emptied the cat boxes, cleaned the bathroom. Swept the kitchen and bathroom floor, took care of some dishes and lit some incense. Oh and of course put on jam on. I swear that sattellite radio is a gift from heaven.
At least I’m enjoyin the riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to talk about that night. What I heard on NPR. What seemed to be the future. Going around all those roads. Seeing people I recognize trying to hurt me. It was as if a dream became reality instead of it being a dream within reality that isn’t reality. I seriously feel that if I could write it out into a script. It would make a great movie.
I can’t remember what inspired me to get in the car. The hubby fell asleep and I just said I’m going to micky d’s and all i have to do is eat a few chicken nuggets with the honey mustard sauce and some fries. All I had to eat was 4 nuggets and 5 fries. It was that specific. Everything seemed to be set up as if it were meant to be a path. All I did was look straight ahead, drove the speed limit and listened to NPR. I would say something out loud and I would receive an answer on NPR and the answer always had choices. I had to make a choice and even then, if I were afraid to make the choice, I had help making the choice. It wasn’t anyone’s voice. It was an inner monologue of my own. Kinda like on Scrub’s. I would vocalize my thoughts. As I was eating the chicken mcnuggets I was forgetting to dip them in the honey mustard and so on NPR, a show began that showcased all of the wonderful sauces that were inspired by Asia. And how it’s best to have them with other kinds of foods because that is how they taste best. You don’t pile honey mustard onto a french fry, you dip it in and get just a little bit and then together, the two tastes combine and its nummmy. That is pretty much what I was doing for the first maybe 20 minutes of the drive up to the mountain. I was noticing lots of white lights everywhere, as if it where still christmas time even though new years eve had passed. I knew it was January and after the visit to micky d’s and hearing from the two kids that a comet was in the sky, I had made the decision to just drive up to mt hood. I had done this once before in 1999. I hopped in sunshine, the vw that i used to co-own with a friend and camped up on the mountain all by myself in a tent. I knew i had to do this camping experiment on my own but to be doing something simliar almost 8 years later, it didn’t seem like such a strange thing to me, while it freaked everyone around me out. I guess that’s because I expect people to know what’s going on in my head but forget that they dont know unless I tell them.
As I drove up and up the mountain, which takes about 45 minutes to get to, I have absolutely no idea where I went. NPR pretty much directed me and as I hit a certain elevation, the NPR channell fuzzed out and I was listening to what sounded like NPR in the future. I was hearing things that weren’t happening in the reality down the mountain and I thought to myself, I must be getting a glimpse of the future. That everything will be all right if we just keep talking to each other. That there was a new religious person in the government. Someone who would speak for all religions. I can’t remember what they called this person but it helped bring together the entire world into peace because each religion had it’s own speaker. I wish I could remember more but it was an interview and I was in so much awe of what I was hearing that it was all I could do to keep driving the 15 mile an hour curves as I drove up and up the mountain. There wasn’t any snow for some strange reason. We must have had a short warm spell that kept the snow off of the higher elevations that would usually require chains for driving. After the food show about the honey mustard and asian sauces, and the NPR interview with the religion ambassador from the United States, I was closer and closer to the top of the mountain. At one point I went the wrong way and was thinking and saying “help” I don’t know which way to go. A white car or pick up truck would show up and would go one way and I would follow and they would then disappear. Some of the darker elements of the world were also involved in this dream reality. The darker color cars would try and block me from going places. Not once did the police seem to see me as acting any different and the people in the lighter color cars were always smiling and waving and so I knew I wasn’t encroaching into or onto anyone else’s space or bubble as I like to call it. Its not a coincidence that the sattellite radio just finished playing a song from a phish show that I would call ‘my show’ while I was writing the above words. There is inspiration and muse right there in music.
Thirty days in the hole. Newcastle Brown can sure smack you down.
As I reached the top, well, what felt like the top of wherever it was I could go, I came to a fork in the road. I could either go up and to the right, or down and to the left. I figured I’d take the higher road and so I veered to the right. There was a gate, but the gate was open and I knew most people in this part of the world and area are pretty much nice, especially if the gate is open. I also didn’t have any other way to go and so I needed to turn around anyways and figured this would be the best place. The funniest thing was that I really needed to go to the bathroom and I just happened to light up a porta potty as I was swingin tela into a circle to head back down the mountain. I thought I had already started to make my turn but for some reason whenI saw the girl and boy that was in the garage, they started to walk towards me and I realized I hadn’t started to turn, I had actually driven towards them. They came to me and I tried to explain that I was lost and needed to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t get out the words. The two people looked really familiar. So familiar that I felt as though I was in some sort of trance. I said “I don’t know why I’m here.”
The girl with the straight blond yellow hair, she looked about 19 or 20 asked me what my name was. I thought that was a little odd but hey, I figured wtf, why not. “Marnie”. I had spent the evening playing on the internet and had been using my nickname instead of my fullname and so I figured I’d just tell her my name was marn. She said how do you pronounce it? I said ‘Mar nee” She seemed to be happy at the response and smiled. “You can go back now” she said. I kinda jumped, startled at a stranger saying something like that to a stranger. The boy that was with her was also very familiar looking. He looked about 19 or 20 and had black hair very simliar to the hubby’s hair. It had been like seeing myself about 20 years younger living life with the hubby. Building a house up on the top of Mt Hood. I didn’t know if I was in the future, the present or the past because of the NPR strangeness. They were not reporting on things that were happening in the reality that I had been in at the bottom of the mountain and so I felt like the things I saw once I reached that point up at the top of the mountain as in a different time. I had a strange feeling in my stomach that it was sometime far in the future and I was seeing a parrallell universe that was existing just right down the road from me. I had been reading a lot of physics on the internet. I had spent hours watching physics professors teach me that they have figured out how the universe works. According to them, there is another universe just like this one, but its only a fraction of the smallest thing you can imagine away from us. Its the negative universe. And sometimes we can fall into that and bad things start to happen. Music starts to sound off key. Things go bad. Theres war, famine, disease, destruction, everywhere and no matter where we are in our world we can accidentally slip into that parallel universe. I wish that a website would appear telling me that what I’m writing makes sense but I have to go google to make that happen so brb
here ya go:
“Everything you’re about to read here seems impossible and insane, beyond science fiction. Yet it’s all true.
Scientists now believe there may really be a parallel universe – in fact, there may be an infinite number of parallel universes, and we just happen to live in one of them. These other universes contain space, time and strange forms of exotic matter. Some of them may even contain you, in a slightly different form. Astonishingly, scientists believe that these parallel universes exist less than one millimetre away from us. In fact, our gravity is just a weak signal leaking out of another universe into ours.”
whats interesting is the date : 14 February 2002
deifnitely has two meanings..
it can mean the most meanest sickest sickness jamming of the band named moe.
Or it can be a subluxating kneecap aka patellar. Guess there was some sort of tear, but not sure about that one. Still waiting for the email with the xray. I can’t believe I’m finally getiing a cool xray. Kinda sick I know but when you are fighting a disease, and you grab proof of if, a picture, you really want to own a copy of one. I have a feeling itll arrive sooner then later.
It’s nice to be off the crutches for the day. Now I iknow that it’s hyperextention that is causing it I need to go google what to do for that. I get the weekend for rest and then its back to healing the knee again. I’m so thankful of my life right now that I can honestly say I’m happy even with an injury like this one.
Damn that jam was just sickness